Need to Know
by Howlin' Mara
Summary: The team goes to Libya to rescue someone with information Stockwell needs, but things take an unexpected twist.
1. New Job

Well, time for another fic...I'll get Past Lives done soon, though, don't worry :)

Read, review, don't flame :) And thanks to everyone on OtJ (jfm, Ro, Spee, Jes, Myra...) who reviewed these posts there first :D

* * *

Face grinned smugly across the pool table at Frankie as he sunk the eight ball and won the game. "That's three to two, Frankie," he muttered happily. 

"Ah, come on! Best of seven," Frankie begged.

After putting his pool cue away, Face crossed the room and stood in front of Frankie, his hand out and his grin wide. "Hand it over."

With a groan, he reached into his pocket and pulled a small piece of paper with a leggy blond's phone number on it out, then handed it to Face. "Next one's mine, though."

But before Face could reply, General Hunt Stockwell entered the house, his assistant and Murdock in tow. Murdock was dressed in the uniform of a mall security guard, and had obviously been pulled from his job to accompany Stockwell to the house.

"Nice uniform, Captain," Hannibal remarked from his place on the couch. "New job?"

"You are looking at the new Head of Security for Twin Pines Mall," he replied proudly as he pulled out his baton and whirled it around a couple of times.

BA turned his head and gave Murdock a confused look. "They put iyou/i in charge of security?" he asked incredulously, shaking his head in disapproval.

"We can discuss Captain Murdock's new job later, gentlemen," Stockwell muttered as the team settled themselves on the couches.

When everyone was seated, he signaled to his assistant to dim the lights. On the wall across from the team a photograph of a very familiar looking woman appeared. She was standing in what appeared to be a battleworn city in the desert, and behind her was an old stone building. The walls of the building were an ugly dark brown, a barbed wire fence surrounded the perimeter, and guard towers were posted at regular intervals.

Everyone, with the exception of Frankie, froze and looked uncertainly at one another.

"Amy," Face breathed.

"Four days ago," Stockwell started, seemingly oblivious to the team's reactions, "I received word that Miss Allen had come across evidence that a small business recently set up on the east coast was a front for funnelling money to a Libyan terrorist group. One of my agents was immediately dispatched to bring back both Miss Allen and the evidence. Said agent had forty-eight hours to return or report back."

Hannibal lit a cigar and muttered, "let me guess, you haven't heard a word from this agent?"

"Not quite," Stockwell replied with a tight smile. "Twenty-four hours after the agent was dispatched, we received a brief transmission originating in Al Jawf." The picture on the wall changed from Amy to a map of Libya with Al Jawf prominently featured. "We believe Miss Allen is being held here, at a small, heavily guarded compound west of the city." The slide changed to a close up of the area surrounding Al Jawf with a military stronghold now etched on the map. "Your job is to go in and get Miss Allen out, using your own untraceable weapons, of course."

"And what about this agent of yours?"

Stockwell smiled, making it clear that it was generous act on his part to answer at all. "My agents take care of themselves, Colonel, or they aren't my agents."

Later that night the team found themselves in an unmarked plane entering Libyan airspace. In the back of the plane Frankie and Murdock were preparing an unconscious BA for the jump, while Hannibal and Face checked the weapons.

Face took in a deep breath and released it slowly as he put down the bag he'd been holding, and closed it. "Hannibal, do you think she's...I mean, is she..." He had no idea how to ask what was on his mind, and to be honest, a part of him was afraid to ask anyway, afraid of the answer.

"She'll be fine, kid," the Colonel replied without looking up from what he was doing. "Amy's a strong girl."

"But what about this agent? I mean, Stockwell wasn't exactly very forthcoming with the details there." As much as he hated to vocalize it, he needed to know if he was the only one who had been thinking it. "What...what if this agent is a traitor? What if he's the reason Amy's sitting in a Lybian prison?"

Murdock stood and shook his head. "I don't think so, Faceman. If anything, Stockwell thinks this guy is expendable. Remember what he said about his agents taking care of themselves?"

"Yeah, but Stockwell also trusted that Brown Fox guy, remember?" He was becoming increasingly irritated out of concern for Amy, not that he'd ever actually admit that was the reason. When the hell was the jump, again?

"Relax, kid," Hannibal assured him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Amy will be fine."

Leave it to Hannibal to see right through him. Face sighed and ran a hand across his jaw in frustration.

"What about Stockwell's agent?" Murdock asked.

"We only deal with that if we have time," the Colonel replied after a brief pause. "Getting Amy out of there is our first priority."

At that moment a light went off in the cabin, signalling the approaching jump point. The team exchanged worried looks, then checked the equipment and chutes one last time.


	2. Resilience

Well, here's chapter two!

Review replies...

**shadowwalker213** Thank you :) I've always fancied Face and Amy as a couple myself ;)

**Labybabe** Thank you...I hope you like this update.

**Allissea ** I've always thought Amy should have stayed with the team...instead of bringing in Tawnia. I think she was the best add-on for the team :)

I know it's been a while, but I hope everyone's still with me here :)

And now for the customary shameless plug. I post all my fic over at my A-team forum first for feedback, so thanks to all who reviewed and offered advice there :)

And now on to the fic! R&R!

* * *

BA growled and stalked menacingly toward Face, Frankie and Murdock, who were all hiding behind Hannibal. He had awoken just as he landed safely on the ground, and was none too happy about being pushed from a plane. 

"Secure that, Sergeant," Hannibal ordered calmly. "You can be angry later. Right now we have to bury these 'chutes and find Amy." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "Frankie, help him. Murdock, you got that map?"

The Captain pulled a folded up piece of paper from his jacket, and replied, "right here, Colonel."

Hannibal kneeled in the sand and spread the map, then pointed at a spot marked off in the middle of the desert. "According to Stockwell this is approximately where we are." His finger slid east to another dot on the map, just beside Al Jawf. "Meaning we've got about eleven and a half miles between us and Amy."

"Good thing Stockwell had us dropped off at night, huh, Colonel?" Murdock remarked with a small smile.

Face shot an unappreciative glance at his friend, wondering how the man could make wisecracks at a time like this, but remained silent.

Ignoring the remark, Hannibal looked at his watch, then back at the map. "That means it's about two and a half hours--maybe more--to get to the prison, and another forty-five minutes before the guard change," he muttered to himself, raising his voice so the whole team could hear him as he continued. "Can't take any more than three hours to get to the prison, or we have a six hour wait for the next guard shift, and we miss Stockwell's flight out of here. BA, you and Frankie will wait with whatever transportation you can find. There's bound to be truck or van to transport the prisoners lying around somewhere. Murdock, Face, you're coming in with me. Now, supposedly, Amy'll be on the third floor, so getting in, finding her cell, and getting out quickly is going to be a bit of a trick. Fast and quiet is the key. No gunshots, if you can avoid it. We may have to split up to find Amy, so keep your radios handy. Two clicks if you find her. Any questions?"

Murdock and Face both shook their heads.

"Frankie, BA, any questions?" he asked a little louder. Receiving two more negatives, he smiled grimly and muttered, "good. Now, let's help them get those 'chutes buried. I'm not keen on letting Amy stay in that place any longer than she has to."

"Right, Colonel." Murdock headed away quickly to help out, leaving Face and Hannibal alone for a moment.

The Colonel put his hand on the younger man's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You okay, kid?"

Face swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat at the memories of his own incarceration before replying, "I'll be better when I know Amy's safe. I can only imagine what she's going through in a place like that."

"We'll get her out," was all Hannibal could think to say.

He nodded silently in return, and walked off toward the others with Hannibal following after a moment.

* * *

The cell door slammed shut as her cell mate was taken away yet again, leaving Amy with nothing but her own thoughts. She crouched helplessly in the corner, burying her face in her hands. It still amazed her how, even knowing what they would do to her, the other woman always seemed so strong when they came for her. 'Seemed' was probably the keyword, though.

After she had been taken a few times it became easier and easier for Amy to detach herself from the situation, to lose her grasp on reality in a sense. She imagined that was what her cell mate did as well.

What amazed her most of all, though, was her own surprising resilience, the fact that she hadn't told her captors anything yet.

Yet.

She didn't know how much longer she could hold out. Only the idea that talking would lead to innocent people getting hurt had kept her silent. But how long could that last?

Closing her eyes, she ignored the screams of the other prisoners, and remembered a conversation she'd had with Face. It seemed like ages ago.

He had told her of his time in Vietnam, told her of what had happened in the prison camps. At the time she hadn't understood what he'd meant when he'd said it was the worst and most frightening time of his life. Not really, anyway.

Now she understood, though.

She was being violated and tortured on a regular basis. Even with the small window allowing light into the cell, she couldn't be certain how long she'd been there. Days? Weeks? Any hope of rescue was slowly becoming little but a faded memory.

Frightening couldn't even begin to describe the experience. And calling it the worst time of her life seemed too mild somehow.

Memories of the conversation washed over her and brought a smile to her face as she once again found herself entertaining the idea of the team coming to rescue her. It was a pipe dream, and she knew it, but it kept her going in her darker times.

Every time she saw the dream, the guys would bust the cell door down, and Face would carry her out of there to safety. Nobody got hurt. And everything worked out right.

A bitter laugh escaped her dry lips. Even if the team somehow idid/i manage find and rescue her, what were the odds of them all escaping unharmed?

God, how she wished Face were with her, though. He inever/i would have let this happen to her. He would have died first.

The thought made Amy's stomach churn. Maybe it was better that he wasn't there. She'd already thought she'd lost him, along with Hannibal and BA, when she read the story of their execution. Her job had prevented her from returning for the trial, and it wasn't until days later, when she'd heard of their escape, that she was finally able to eat and sleep properly once again.

Another pained scream pierced the air, and Amy flinched in sympathy. She didn't know whose scream it had been, but she felt badly for them nonetheless. Most of the people in the prison didn't deserve to be there, she was willing to bet her life savings on that fact.

Her body shook with a few dry sobs, and she reached up to wipe at her face the sleeve of her torn, blood-stained shirt. It was simply a reflex to wipe at her face; she was far too dehydrated for tears.

Closing herself off from the horrors around her, Amy slid back into her rescue fantasy, and smiled as she saw BA break down her cell door.


End file.
